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New Edit: Chapter 33: Egill Skallagrímsson
Chapter 33: Egill Skallagrímsson It took Egill and me almost 4 weeks to reach his rock. His sub was quite fast, but no submarine could match the speed of a flier. He showed me how to guide the sub and let me steer it from the helm. Despite its age, it was equipped with a Computronic and a sensor array that would put modern Hunt subs to shame. He told me stories about Earth, when Submarines were used in warfare against other nations and never for hunting fish. He said that during the last great clan wars, many hunting subs were used or altered to attack other subs and that this one was a purpose built craft from that time. The boat was perhaps seventy meters long, and generated power from a small Hydrogen Fusion Plant. It had a small galley and originally had room for a crew of six. But the old man had repurposed these rooms as he did not have a crew, but he had prepared me a bunk in what he called the torpedo room. The boat was armed with six torpedo tubes and had still twenty of these fast underwater missiles ready to be loaded. These torpedoes carried warheads and could rip a boat or sub in pieces. I asked him what was so traditional about that and it was using distance weapons and Off-World Tech. He explained that the Use of Fishing boats and Hunting subs came into use because the traditional way of hunting them was so dangerous, that many men were killed each year and the acceptance of Subs and Boats became accepted with traditions. I snorted at that and told him what I felt about traditions that could be altered when it fit the men and first born but was as rigid and unchangeable when it came to the rights of others. He simply ignored me and told me that during the height of the Clan wars, boats were armed and blowing up another clan's boat was a "Thing" and therefore the use of torpedoes and such was perfectly alright. Those men inside these boats were a secondary effect as the boats and not the men were attacked. Again the Elders and Vikings went out of their way to justify something with twisted logic. Egill said that this was the reason however, Clan wars were outlawed as the use of Off-World tech was getting out of hand. The boat smelled of wet wool, grease, Tyranno oil and other rather unpleasant organic odors and the hermit was not a pleasant conversationalist as the Ancient Keeper, he grunted most of the time. But he gave me the old stories to read and the old poems and made me recite them. It was part of the ancient challenge to recite from memory one of the ancient poems and the Elder’s testing could pick an easy one or a hard one. He insisted I would learn them all. The second part of the Ancient challenge was a test of skill with three selected weapons. He was not satisfied with my skill level and pointed out that there was room for much improvement. He left the boat on auto helm every day and I had to exercise on the slippery hull before the conning tower of the sub and more than once fell, slipped and slid into the water. It took him a while to get the boat stopped and made me catch up instead of turning around. He was not friendly and never had a word of praise but he knew my mother and she wanted him to train me and I would not fail her last wish! I would keep the Holo open and let it repeat the message. No music could have been sweeter to me as my mother's voice. Finally we reached Skalil Rock. It was a tall thick pillar of rock sticking out of the ocean at least 50 meters, but for sure no more than 20 meters across. His burg melded with the shape of the stone column into one dark gray shape against the sky. There was a very narrow quay on one side of that rock with metal bollards where he instructed me to secure the sub with thick Artifib-Ropes. I thought how loudly the two faced, no good for nothing, Elders dammed modern technology and improvement but used it wherever they found it practical. I would have respected them if they lived what they preached but this hypocritical approach made me think of them less every time I was thinking about these fools. An open basket lowered on a chain and he motioned me to step in. He did as well and the thing lifted us past the almost vertical rock walls of the pillar up and into a small outhouse like building sticking like a kissing fish stuck to the side of a Triple-Finner. An electric winch stopped humming and he said, "That is a wonderful thing to keep unwanted guests away." I wondered how many unwanted guests would ever find this place anyway. If you didn't know its exact coordinates, you'd never find it in the vastness of Nilfeheim oceans. "If you are long enough at the same place they find you. Those who think I have answers or would use my influence to change a decision of the Elders." He said and I wondered how he knew what I was thinking about, but then he probably just kept explaining to me why he had this lift. His burg consisted of only one house that was built into the base of his tower and it was, like the boat, a horrible mess. Books, rotting leather, wool, and dirty dishes piled up everywhere. And the air was even fouler than aboard the boat. He barked. "If you don't like how it smells and looks you are welcome to do something about it." He must have guessed what I was thinking seeing my face. "Well I don't mind cleaning the place a little. Do you have cleaning supplies?" He shrugged. "If I do, I don't remember. On top of the tower is a small flier. You can use it to go to fly to Isen and get what you need." I looked around and found the narrow stairs. Its rails covered with incredibly dirty rags and laundry. As I climbed it he yelled "While you there pick up some to eat, some tea and a bottle of Vodka or two." After leaving the ground floor and climbing the spiral staircase, the trash became less and the air better, but judging by the finger thick dust, no one had been up here in ages. The flier was indeed there, a small two-seater with a tiny cargo area. It too was covered thick with gray dust. Only because the Olafson Clan didn't believe in updating tech, I knew that thing in the back was Pre Zero Point Power Cube. That Nuco-Bat was ancient when my 400 hundred year old Instructor was in his crib. Surprisingly according to the indicator, it held twenty percent power and that was plenty to take that thing twenty times around the planet. A rusty winch opened a side of the Tower, no electric motor there, and after checking the Arti grav and the onboard Computronic, I took the thing out. The Arti grav worked fine but its propulsion unit, two ducted turbines sputtered until a lodged dirty sock or something similar came loose and the flier went south in a trail of dust. I never had been to Isen Landsby. I simply knew it existed and was Nilfeheim's second largest town (there was a third one, not much more than a village so I heard, at the Five Clan Island Cluster to the West). Using the directional data transmitted by Nilfeheim Radio I was confident I would find it. The flier was open and the temperature was dropping. I wished I had some sort of coat, but I found the heater and ducked behind the windshield. I had left the open water behind me and was now flying over the permanent ice of our south pole. Unlike on the North Pole where the sun did not really leave the sky during Shortsummer, here it never came up past the horizon and it was dark and bitter cold. Isen appeared. It was like an island of light in the otherwise dark featureless ice plane. Buildings were sitting on long stilts buried in the ice and connected with bridges and staircases leading to the ice. Most buildings were surrounded by metal platforms and hand railings. And masts with light elements everywhere. The town looked like a festive lit Yule log from the air. I did see fliers and power sleds but what surprised me most to see men riding Fangsnappers! I landed the flier next to the lit sign of a flier service station and a man in blue coverall and no beard at all came out of the lit entrance, crunched over the thin layer of snow that covered the metal floor of this platform and spit a wad of gum over the railing. "Dang me a Lips sis! It's a real genuine Vanderstream Open Top in good condition and original paint." He pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped across the flier's manufacture plate. "Never thought in a thousand Longnights to see one on this ice cube of a planet. Do you want to sell it?" "Sorry Sir, I am just using it, but I wondered if you can check the propulsion turbines. Something was stuck in it and the left one is sparking and wheezing." "Sure thing. I take a look at it." "Is there a place I can buy supplies?" "Yes sure. We got a store. You walk across that suspension bridge over there, pass the Swine and Dine and you are at Silver Hawk's Emporium. They got most of the things you need." He didn't ask me where I came from or who I was. I followed his instructions and wondered if Annar was already working here, as I passed the Swine and Dine. Except for the fact this restaurant was suspended on stilts over frozen ice, it looked exactly like the one in Halstaad Fjord, complete with mechanical pig. This one wore a covering of snow in addition to his costume. The place was well heated and I realized I was colder than I thought I was. The costumed employee behind the otherwise nearly empty restaurant greeted me the usual way and I placed an order and then said. "Would you know if a guy named Annar works here? "We are not allowed to give out names of our employees. We all go by the name Arthur Swine." I shrugged and took my order. "It was a long shot anyway." I took a seat and stared out the window, but I saw one of the costumed employees come over. "Annar saw you on the Visual security and will be right out. Sure enough Annar came a few moments later, wearing black pants, and a red and white striped Shirt. He did not wear a swine mask or coveralls. I barely recognized him however, as he had his hair cut very short. "Wow didn't think I would see you out here. How are things?" He sat down, tugged at his pants as he did so and if it wasn't for the fact that I recognized his face and eyes, I would have never guessed him to be Annar. "Things could be better; but I am not at the Burg and that is good." "I am Restaurant Manager here now and as you see I got my new uniform." "Aren't you going to be ridiculed or harassed after cutting your hair and wearing that?" "No one down here cares much about who you are or where you came from. They say you have to have a reason for being here and freeze your ass off. There aren't many high clans here. This place was founded by freeman as none of the clans wanted to settle on the permanent ice. They are very rugged down here but no one really cares who you are or what you are. As long as you don't ask questions, they don't." "Doesn't sound too bad." "No sure doesn't. Our little Supermarket carries more off world stuff than the stores at Halstaad and no one raises an eyebrow if you buy it." "That's where I need to go next." "Get yourself a snapper coat or something. It gets real cold here, Longnight or not." Loaded to with Cleaners, mops brooms buckets and gallons of Cleaners as well as a portable Nanite recycler and an inflatable Washing machine, I made my way back. The flier was clean, fully charged and the turbines whispered like new. My Credit strip had paid for it all and there was plenty of Credits left. I almost missed the tall rock in the darkness, but turned around as it passed to the left and landed. The old man was sitting in a shabby chair. At first I thought he was dead, but he raised his head as I appeared and handed him a big bag of Rib meals and a soft drink. He grunted and unwrapped a burger. "Did you get the Vodka?" "It was not as easy. They would not sell it to me as I needed to be of age to get Alcohol, but the guy who fixed the flier got it for me." I placed the bag with the two jugs before his feet. He glared at it. "You sure like to talk and explain things that do not need explanation. All I asked if you got it. A simple yes would have been enough." I nodded. "Well open one and pour some in that sweet throat glue you brought along with that Off-World garbage food." After he had me dump half of the coke and replace it with the strong smelling clear liquid he sighed, happily munching on his third Rib Burger. He was no different than the other Elders. Condemning Off-World on one hand and stuffing his belly with Burgers. He held up the almost finished Burger. "Even Earthers on Terra think that this food is Garbage. It is called Junk Food for over 3000 years for a reason! The reason it is still around because it is so darn good! Now don't let me stop you. Start cleaning. The smell is still the same!" I had no idea how many days I scrubbed, gathered, washed and cleaned. At first it seemed I would do that for the entire three months I was supposed to be here. I had made six or seven trips to the shops buying a second and a third washing machine. Getting more cleaning agents and burning a mountain of garbage every day in his small yard, the Nanite garbage recycler was simply overwhelmed by the sheer volume. But finally I had reached the last room in his building and sorted the clean laundry. Onto a long rack I had made of ropes and boards. He had not spoken much in the entire time only to tell me to throw something out I was cleaning. "Don't clean it. Get rid of it!" He stood in the door and lifted his nose. "Smells real fancy now, won't you agree?" "Yes, it might be considered an improvement." "I am not sure if I should now start training you or tell you I got a big basement, no one has really cleaned in ages and the boat needs cleaning too!" INTERLUDE 3 Gretel was not very happy with the developments lately. She urgently needed new dresses and her supply on sweetmeats and her favorite drink hot chocolate was running low. Isegrim sat brooding in his chair by the fire and stared in the flame. Lothar and Tyr played in the High Hall, running around the long stately table giggling and yelling. Suddenly Isegrim bolted up in his chair and uncoiled his whip. "Cease that mindless foolishness at once!" Tyr stopped but Lothar kept on. "I am your favorite. I can do what I want, can I not mother?" She got up and said. "Play a little less noisy." Isegrim glared at her. "He ignores me and you condone his behavior? Eric, my first born, slew a Fangsnapper with a knife younger, then burned his back. I beat him many times and never was there a tear or a cry from his lips. Yet this favorite fruit of my loins dances around a table like a nitwit, giggles and laughs like a girl and defies my word?" Isegrim's voice became louder with every word. Gretel said. "Speaking of that failed abortion, is it not time we invite his future bride over so you can ask for another advance to the dowry?" Isegrim growled raised his heavy hand, she retreated. "Don't you dare Isegrim, unlike that dumb blonde you married first; I made sure you won't do the same to me. As you know I have collected evidence of all your crocked deals and crimes. Should I die or come to harm, The Elders and the clan leaders you robbed screwed and stolen from will all know the truth." Isegrim grabbed her by the throat and pulled her close. "I found your evidence and know you hid it with your mother. Your mother met a very unfortunate end, not that I believe the hungry Nubhirs left much after she told me everything I needed to know. He pressed tighter and Gretel coughed and gargled. Her eyes wide, she was no small woman but there was nothing she could do against his gargantuan strength. Isegrim pulled her even closer. "Do you think I would let you blackmail me forever?" He suddenly let her go and pushed her away. "I let you live for now as I don't like to make a fool of myself and I declared the world that this Lothar is my favorite. I am beginning to change my mind!" Gretel was still fighting with her breath and Isegrim was screaming, "Lothar if you are still there when I turn my face I will roast you in the fireplace right now!" Harkun silently appeared and stood there like a rod, on the bottom of the stairs his nose in the air. Isegrim took the papers, the PDD and a box with documents from his servant. "Is that all?" "Yes your Lordship. The mother was very descriptive and it was all there, all that concerns this world. I found a keycard to a safe deposit box at the bank on Holstein. She keeps additional papers and documents there, so her sister said." Gretel came up."That's right Isegrim! You may gained some but not all. I got damning material on you at a place you can't get to!" "And neither can you." "I don't have to. A friend of mine will open it and publish what it contains. Evidence to a murder plot will not sit well with the Elders or the Union." Isegrim looked towards Harkun and the man sniffed. "I have similar evidence on you Ma'am and conspiracy to such a deed is just as condemning." She hissed. "One day Harkun! One day!" Isegrim snapped his finger. "Have you been able to find out where Eric is? He seems to have disappeared." "Your brother has severed all ties to your son as you know and rejected all control over any Old Ragnarsson Claims which rest with you now." "Did he go to Hasvik again?" "No your Lordship. It appears that the Eldest himself has accepted him and trains him at the Pillar." Isegrim plunged back down in his chair. "Of course, Ilva knew him and the Old Man was there at Eric's first birthday. If only half of what they say about him is true..." His voice trailed off. Gretel said with a meek voice. "Who is this Eldest?" Father stared in the fire. "The Holy one, the One who has talked to Odin and in return gained a very long lifespan!" "Gods don't exist!" She snorted. "For your and my sake, I hope you are right." Isegrim glared at her and sighed, "Maybe we are too much alike, Gretel. Maybe that is why I don't kill you. You are but a woman; but your heart is as black as mine. Sometimes I think you planned it all from the beginning." She nodded. "I have my dear husband. I have! This is a cursed world for women and twice as cursed for those born to Low men. I did not want to scrub stinking bloody hides for the rest of my life. Stomp bare feet in Urine to soften and tan leather. Yet this is a Nubhir Cleaners daughter's lot. I saw that cursed blonde in her pretty dress not even seeing me." Her voice became as hard as steel. "I swore myself I would be there one day and she would be dead. I know of the secret power my womanhood can have over men and I knew of a young, stupid but strong Firstborn. One of an old clan but a poor clan, yes you Isegrim. The Olafsons, old and noble by name, yet so poor they had to huddle together in the Community room of their miniscule burg as they could not afford to heat it." He nodded as the flickering flames of the fire stylized his face with even harder lines. "Indeed and I knew it was forbidden to lay with a Low man's daughter. I was so young. The promise and secret of a woman's touch so arousing." "Oh and arouse you did indeed. You were promised to Ilva Ragnarsson by ancient pacts, just as you made with Sif's father. And you broke it by bedding with me! Your father would have killed you if he knew the dishonor you brought upon the House Olafson!" She laughed Isegrim clenched his fists. "You, evil wench, blackmailed me already back then to tell it all if I did not follow thy bidding." Her face gleamed with pride. "For all your swagger and strength, you men are nothing but pawns in a woman's hand who knows what she wants. I am not like you, I am smarter! You even killed that blonde whore on my bidding." She laughed. "You killed her for me like a well trained Nubhir Wolf." He sunk his head and stared at his hands. "I have done this indeed, back then I actually loved you." "Isegrim, Isegrim. You never loved anything in your life but yourself and to get your pecker exercised or sucked." "It is you who loves nothing, Gretel. I told you that I killed your mother and there is not even a tear in your face. Your sister perished after she was questioned and you know that and yet you remain calm." "They were tools Isegrim, just as you are a tool to me. There are two billion Credits waiting!" Her eyes glittered. "Do you know what you can do with that kind of money? You could buy every burg and every boat on Nilfeheim, or hire a band of mercenaries and kill everyone and take this planet as your own. You could buy yourself a nicer and warmer world and there would be enough change left for a cozy luxurious life!" Her face turned hard again. "Now tell me again of this Eldest and how you plan to get that money from that walking cum stain!" "He is out of our reach there, Demon woman! You may not believe in gods; but he is around for 400 years and holds the seat that is always empty. If he decides to interfere with the Elder’s decisions, they would change it. He has mystical powers and sees into the minds of others and predicts the future always correctly." "What a load of superstitious Nubhir poop!" Harkun eyed her disapprovingly. "You may think of yourself as clever, woman but you are far from it. You possess no powers over me and my life and service is with Isegrim alone. You are still a sniffling, crying, soft fleshed woman. The cursed Off-Worlders call it Psionics and I assure you these powers are quite real and the Eldest has such gifts in spades and had 400 years to hone them." Gretel could not argue against that. She had never met anyone with Psionic powers but she watched enough GalNet shows to know they were real. "Will he give Eric such powers?" "No, Eric was tested at school like any other student." Isegrim said. "His PSI index is as low as those of most Nilfeheim Norse." She shrugged. "Then as soon as he returns, he will live on the Burg and we will make sure he changes his mind, won't we Isegrim?" Isegrim steepled his fingers. "If he comes back, I might have to face him in a challenge and it could be his Burg after that." She blinked angry. "Does not everyone say he needs to be sixteen to do that? But why not accept the stupid challenge and get it over with. He is but a kid, you kill him in that challenge and we have the money." Isegrim stared at his whip. "You are right Harkun. She is but a weak woman and as smart as she thinks she is, she does know nothing. The children of Low Men are not educated in those things after all." Harkun declined his head. "The Eldest most likely trains Eric how to compete in the Ancient Challenge. The Old Man takes students very rarely and of those he does take only few survive, but those who do become legends like Eric's Grandfather or Elik the Ironfist Olafson, Isegrim's great grandfather. I hate Eric as much as you do, but he is already a deadly master swordsman. Did you know he received training from Richard the Outcast?" Isegrim ignored his wife and looked towards Harkun, "I can't help it but to feel a spark of pride. He is fruit of my loin and his name is spoken with great respect anywhere but in these our halls." Gretel coughed. "Are you saying you fear to face that thin failure in a fight?" He pointed his finger at her. "Never call him failure again. When I see what your womb had produced as sons. Eric my son is thin because he was not fed on the tables as it was his right by your blackmail. Yet he showed the strength of my house as he killed not one but two Tyrannos. Go see the recording when he fights the Steiner boy and look at the footage I got from Hogun as he kills four men and maims a fifth. Go look at it! He is growing fast and I can see the hatred towards me in his eyes, I might be able to best him now, but it is not certain by any means. Richard the Outcast declared Eric to be the best pupil he ever had, and there is no living being on this world who can match Richard the Outcast." Gretel said. "So we must prepare a trap. He will return here and we will be ready for him. We lay him in irons and administer poisons and potions to rob his strength and I will get Off-World Psycho Drugs to make him say whatever we want. He is no match for me." "And you will use the same drugs on me! I will not allow you to get this yourself." "Oh but I already have!" Category:FInal Edits